Watari Pt 1: L\'s Heirs

Mello knew. If he was honest, he had known the second he had stepped out of the college and tried to call home. But there was always the chance that Matt had his music on too loud or he was in the workshop outside and had left his \'phone in the house. Mello knew for certain the instant his black motorcycle roared into view of the garage and found it devoid of a red car. Matt would not be out there in the world and not answer his \'phone.



Ice flooded Mello\'s veins. It was neither panic nor a scream, but cold calculation. He drove into the garage and pulled shut the door, tying the top pulley with a towrope and securing it to a hook. It could not be opened now from the outside, but windows gave him a view of the house. It had stood empty. It was, therefore, not secure. He took his laptop from his bike\'s saddle storage and connected it. As his e-mails loaded, Mello began the hack that would get him through a known backdoor into the system inside the house. He and Matt had written it together, trying to out-do each other in complexities, absurdities at times, but the passwords and codes were in his memory anyway. Mello held his breath, but didn\'t cheer, even as the options of screens mirrored those showing in his study. He found the last e-mail from Matt and read it. He listened to the conversations with Hollow, all the time watching the house. Nothing stirred.



Mello\'s watch told him that he had missed the redhead by three hours. An hour after he was meeting Hollow in Winchester Cathedral. His first call was to Watari. "Roger, send someone, anyone. Send Lauren to Winchester Cathedral. Tell her to be careful, but if she sees Matt or Hollow to contact you. Tell her to look around and to ask around. Any information at all. And if she does find Matt alive and well, tell him I\'m going to throttle him." His second call was along the Watari network to Hollow. Roger connected them, but the call went unanswered. This was on his laptop. The mobile \'phone in his hand redialled Matt\'s number constantly, hanging up as it reached the answerphone. He paced. Thinking. Nothing changed at the house.



Back to his laptop, he flicked through the recorded footage of Matt leaving, noting the weaponry that his lover held up to the camera. Mello blew, giving himself hope by remembering that the redhead was not without resources in his own right. He had once been instrumental in bringing a city to his knees to effect their escape after the kidnapping of Takada. Matt was extremely intelligent and he was armed. It would not be easy to bring him down. The answerphone sounded again in his ears. Mello counted to ten just to keep the ice cap over his emotions. Had Matt\'s \'phone got a GPS fitted? He had once found Mello like that, sneaking the chip into the blond\'s own \'phone, then tracing him to a club. Matt had had a tracker in his \'phone when he\'d visited that Swedish gangster, but that felt like a million years ago. The programme to trace it was on Matt\'s system. Mello took a deep breath and started to attempt to hack into that too.



Ten minutes later, Mello screamed at the laptop and felt better for it. He mentally resolved that if, no, when, they got through this, he would make Matt give him a backdoor to get into his system too. If he had a week to concentrate on the task, he doubted that he could do it. The Slav rushed over to the motorcycle and took a bar of chocolate from his bag. He pulled off the wrapper and leaned up against his bike to suck on square of the reassuring, stimulating cocoa. Someone could get into Matt\'s computer. Someone had. The Texan! That voice came from nightmare memory, but felt like a blessed relief now. CrashnBurn. Mello ran back to his laptop and searched hacker sites and forums until he found one that he had seen before. EHC was the legend and it namechecked CrashnBurn and Mariomatt both. He e-mailed the administrator: \'Mariomatt is in big trouble. I need to get a message from him to CrashnBurn.\' He hoped that it would be intriguing enough for the world-class hacker to respond. Across the yard, nothing happened at the house.



Mello had reached for his helmet dozens of times, but held his post. Someone from Wammy\'s could reach that Cathedral far more quickly than he could and, if he was driving, he was not monitoring a laptop for the response message. Minutes felt like hours, but only another ten of them actually passed before an Old English \'W\' broke the torture by appearing on his screen. Roger gave him a \'phone number and Mello called it from his mobile. Lauren replied, "Mello."



"Lauren. Thank you. Any news?"



"I am here with Jamboree. She can see someone matching Hollow\'s description on the other side of the Cathedral, so I\'m just walking over to meet her."



"Ok, thank you. Lauren, do not approach Hollow, but keep her in your sight. If Matt is with her, then approach, but otherwise, no."



"I got you."



"I\'m on my way." Mello exhaled, glad to be able to move. "I\'ll be alone on a motorcycle, but my \'phone will be on vibrate in my pocket. If I don\'t answer immediately, it\'s because I\'m pulling over to call you back."



"Got you. Mello, I\'m sure it will be alright."



"Me too." Mello growled and said his goodbyes. He stared again at the house, but nothing had stirred at all. He debated the risk of entering to collect more weaponry than the single Beretta in his bag, but the notion that someone might be lying in wait was too great. Divide and conquer was such a powerful strategy. He packed away his laptop, untied the garage door and rode the few miles back to his childhood home city. He and Matt had agreed that any potential summoning to Wammy\'s would never be immediately answered. They would leave at least a couple of hours to disguise the fact that they only the other side of Southampton, closer now than they had even been at the flat. Mello couldn\'t wait a couple of hours. He would make up some story, deflect attention away from the fact that he had come from his home. He would arrive, weaving between traffic, in less than half an hour.



The bells were ringing as he pulled into the Close. The famous Winchester Cathedral bells, which could be heard across the city, the only diatonic bells in the world. The Mattins, at 20 to 8, had practically been his and Matt\'s alarm clock for years. If they were still in their room by Holy Communion (8am), then they were missing breakfast. Six times a day those bells rang and every Wammy kid would be able to name, for the rest of their lives, which times they were. The House was only around the corner. The bells were really loud in there, which would have been fine if they hadn\'t been ringing for Church of England services. They were ringing the Evensong now (3.30pm). Mello concentrated on the bells, as he sprinted across the lawns towards the ancient holy place. They rang for important events too - victories at the Battle of Trafalgar and the Battle of Waterloo. He hoped that they had rung when there had been victory over Kira. They should have done.



Mello reached the entrance and slid his hands in his pocket for the entrance fee, but the steward waved him in. It was a service, so no money required. He automatically bent his knee and crossed himself at the head of the aisle, his helmet under his arm, as he looked around for Lauren. Another teenager detached herself from the paneling at the back and approached him cautiously. "Mello?"



He turned. "Are you Jamboree?"



"Yes." She grinned. "Lauren\'s still watching Hollow. Well, the person we hope is Hollow. This way please." The teenager led the way out towards the cloisters. "May I say that it is an honour to meet you?"



"Thank you." Mello forced a smile. "The feeling is mutual."



They clattered along centuries worn paving stones and out further along the nave, Jamboree having to jog slightly to keep up with Mello\'s striding pace. Lauren appeared, stepping back from her station behind a pillar, and flashed a tight smile at Mello. Her hand gestured for the fourteen year old to keep back, as Mello dashed across to join her. "Hi." Lauren pointed and Mello nodded. It was definitely Hollow, alone and praying in a frontmost pew. Her black, lace veil covered her face, but her hair was in the same ornate style as it had always been. "She hasn\'t moved since I got here. I mean literally hasn\'t moved." She and Mello exchanged glances. "Before the service began, I asked around. There has been a redhead in here and he was talking with her. The guide who saw them said it\'s been maybe an hour ago. She went on her break and since then hasn\'t seen the bloke."



"Lauren, I owe you one again." Mello touched her arm, then handed her his helmet. He unzipped his jacket and touched the rosary, before creeping out right in front of the priest. He gestured his apologies and crossed himself again, before sliding into the pew beside Hollow. The words of the \'De Profundis\' were already forming in his head, as he put his arm around her and knew without the need to check her pulse. Even a Goth could not have pulled off pallor mortis to this degree with make-up; her body was already cooling in the process that, a couple of hours hence, would become rigor mortis. Her freezing body fell against him and he held her close.



Around them, the Evensong began and Mello blinked. This was an Anglican parody of Vespers and he should not be here. To rejoin Lauren meant to run across in front of the pulpit again. The vicar was standing there, as the choral song rose from the choir behind them. It should have been beautiful, but Mello clutched his rosary out of sheer comfort in the face of his situation. It felt like protection too. He looked the other way and the cloisters opened up there too. A curate was watching him with a frown. Mello bent, pushing his arm under Hollow\'s knees, gathering up her heavy, black skirts. He rose, carrying her like the Gothic heroine she had always aspired to be, her arm falling down to dangle in front of them. Her veil still covered her face and he hoped it wasn\'t so obvious that she was dead.



He walked, not running, whispering, "It\'s alright, darling," whenever anyone looked, until he reached the doors. Lauren and Jamboree had seen his progress and had matched it on the other side. They met him there and they walked outside together. "Jamboree, run on ahead. Tell Roger to keep the children... keep your friends..." He faltered.



"Jam, ask Roger to get everyone out of sight from the door to his office. Hollow can\'t be seen just yet." Lauren interjected. The girl ran ahead. "She\'s dead?"



"Yes."



"Mello, I\'m sorry. Were you close?"



"It\'s hard to say. No, but we lived together for four years of my life and argued for the majority of it." The touch of the dead was sending silent, unseen shivers through his psyche. He wanted to drop her and step away, but duty kept him going. He had to keep thinking of nineteenth century literature or else give in to the shuddery repulsion that threatened his emotions. She was Cathy, newly dug from the grave by Heathcliff. She was Tess of the D\'Ubervilles, recovered from Stonehenge. The skirts helped. The Victoriana of her attire kept the illusion. But those heroines were all dead. She was Hollow, passed out drunk after sneaking out of Wammy\'s. "Tell me again what the guide said about Matt."



"She saw them together on that same pew about an hour ago. Then she went on her break and, on her return, Hollow was sitting alone and praying. So that was roughly an hour and half ago." Wammy\'s House came into view. "So Matt killed her?"



Mello blinked back tears. "It looks that way." He grit his teeth. "But I know him and he would have needed a really good reason. So far it makes no sense at all." The gates were wide open and they passed through them. "Lauren, go on ahead. Don\'t let the children see this." But Roger and Ann appeared at the top of the entrance steps. The housekeeper\'s face was a mask of horror. Roger was a perfect display of gentile English stoicism and it was to him whom Mello looked, taking strength and example.



"Bring her in, Mello."



Mello climbed the steps, turning so not to knock Hollow against the doorframe, striding now that the end was in sight. Lauren dashed on ahead, opening the door of Roger\'s office. Mello carried her in and didn\'t know whether to lay her on the settee or the desk. Roger followed them in, opening the archive room and switching on the lights. He led the way to a counter, then turned back to look. Mello shook the hair out of his eyes, readjusted her weight and as gently as he could lowered her onto the white surface. Roger patted his back, while Ann bent to kiss the dead woman\'s face. Lauren pointed. "Mello, why has she got a similar ring to yours?"



The blond had turned away, regaining his composure, but he turned sharply now. "Ring?" His gaze followed Lauren\'s down to Hollow\'s pale fingers. A ring, almost the twin of his own, encircled Hollow\'s index finger. It was Matt\'s. It had been bought at the same time, in Japan, as Mello\'s own, but it didn\'t mean the same to the redhead. Mello felt, at times, like he would cut his own finger off rather than lose his ring; but Matt removed his at the slightest excuse. Usually muttering something about not having jewellery on when he was working on engines; or how it affected his clicking prowess on some game. It was one of the things that kept Mello silently insecure about their whole relationship. A constant reminder that, perhaps, Matt didn\'t quite love him as much as that love was returned. This must be Matt\'s way of telling him that he had been with Hollow. Mello swallowed to keep his voice steady. "I don\'t know."



"How did she die?" Ann demanded. "I see no gunshot wound like with the others. Lauren, fetch Madeleine." The teenager ran on her errand. Ann let brisk efficiency keep her from sobbing. "Mail did this? Little Mail did this? Jamboree said he was the last person seen with her."



Roger raised his hand. "Let us not jump to conclusions before it\'s been properly investigated. I must make a call." He began to walk away.



"Roger." Mello rasped, staring at the floor. "Is Deontic with Near?"



Roger seemed startled. "How could you know...?" He sighed. "Yes, she is."



"Good." Mello stared at the ring on Hollow\'s finger. "As long as Deontic is there too, working with him, then tell him that I am prepared to join him." He bit his lip hard. "If he will have me there." Ann moved around the counter, intent on hugging him, but Mello angrily shook her off, his tattered pride unable to stand the comfort. "Ask Deontic to negotiate the terms."



"I could do that." Roger spoke quietly.



"No, Deontic should do it. There\'s one party holds no faith in truth values and one who holds too much; we need someone sitting between us who has made her life\'s philosophy the study of the logic of them. Let her have her hour. Deontic Logic is about the only thing that will translate me to Near and vice versa." He turned and walked into the M section. Out of sight, they heard him punching the cabinets over and over again, with a loud, metallic clanking. He yelled back. "Where are the others? Where are Luigi, Lamond, Linda, Chrissie, Century, Salvo and Fenian? One of them is murdering us and it\'s not fucking Mail Jeevas!"



Ann gestured for Roger to leave and make his call. She moved around the cabinet, until she could see the blond man further up the aisle. He had his hand up, hanging from a drawer, his face hidden in the cruck of his elbow. "Mihael, my boy, you are so good. You are so, so good. You will find him." She inched towards him. "Keep the faith, darling, in yourself as well as God. You are so brave to volunteer to work with Near over this..."



"It\'s not bravery!" Mello screamed. "It\'s desperation!" Female voices were heard in the office outside, entering this vast room. Madeleine and Lauren, he guessed, but the other two made him stare wide-eyed at Ann. He released the cabinet and marched past her, but she caught his arm.



"Mihael." Her arms drew him close. "Come here, my darling." He consented to the hug, though his body remained as stiff and tense within it as without. "Linda and Lamond have been living here since Jonny and Nathalie were killed. Salvo turned up three days ago. They are frightened too. Mihael, it\'s ok for you to be frightened."



Mello pushed out of her grip and rounded the corner. "There are ten of us accounted for, dead or with alibis; where are the other five?"



Linda glared from the opposite side of the counter. "Mello, coming in here like a force of nature demanding answers is not going to get them. Use that accursed mind of yours that you\'re so arrogant about and get out there and find them." Her fists clenched. "And I hope to God that you\'re not including Matt in those ten with alibis, because his cigarettes were in the room with Jonny." Tears fell freely and Lamond held her. "You can cry set-up all you like, but I am yet to see the proof, Mihael Keehl."



Mello nodded and whispered. "I\'ll get it." He walked, seemingly defeated, back towards Roger\'s office.